Tag Archives: hound dog

Pounced Ya!

2 Apr

I was fast asleep then suddenly I couldn’t breathe. Then I made a weird gurgly scream. Apparently Mr. Frank got a running start from the foot of the bed and jumped up, superman style, straight onto my chest. I guess he thinks I am a trampoline now. Great.


Fancy Frank Day

26 Mar

Today Sweet Baby Frank got a shave and a hair cut, followed by a scrubby bath, and then another haircut. I even cut his nails (and didn’t paint them). It was like a mini spa day for Little F. I’m a bit jealous. If only he could cut and brush my hair for me. Anyway, he spent all afternoon acting like a total stud because of it.   

The most interesting dog in the world.


He doesn’t always eat cashews, but when he does, it is out of his own turd.

You Drive Me Crazy

28 Jun

Our roadtrip from Albuquerque to Austin was quite a spectacle. A lot of family, a very small car.


Grody Frank

29 May

A few things in life that Grody Frank loves:

Kitty treats (cat litter crusted cat poop)
Paper towel cardboard rolls
Rolling in the dirt
Floyd, and everything she does
Face hugs
Peanut butter
Licking up his own pee…

In fact, there are very few things in life that he does not like. I can only think of a handful of things that upset him:

The floaty rafts drifting in the pool
Lamb Chop – the Puppet
Michael crawling through the dog door

Oh Noes!

7 Apr



3 Apr


Little hound dog is teething and he makes the craziest faces when he wakes up from chewing dreams.

Poop Soup

1 Apr

Litttle Frank is disgusting.

Don’t get me wrong, I love guy, but DAMN he does some gross things. Floyd and I are continually astonished by his lack of etiquette and boundaries (every one of my readers is aware of my general air of sophistication, right? Ha.) She’s been trying to help me police him lately, but there’s only so much that can be done.

He’s had some real doozies, let me tell ya.

First, there was the phase (about 8 weeks to 10 weeks old) that he went through of peeing and then attempting to lick it up. Nasty.

He also once got a hold of and ate an entire bag of cashews. He actually cried out in pain as he pooped that out- but then he went back and ate every single partially chewed nut right out of his turd. Barf.

Then came the ‘kitty treats’ phase in which he would crawl into the litter box as if it were an doghouse and eat the clumps of fouled clay. Sometimes he would vomit afterward. And then try to eat his vomit. This behavior earned him the nickname ‘Grody Frank.’

Now that he’s about 14 or 15 weeks, Little F has truly outdone himself. Truly.

Let me tell ya about what happened.

So there I was having an amazing evening. Had a super productive day, had a friend over, was about to go chow some delicious pizza and wine. I’d been out to get groceries for prep and dishing out scooter advice.

I walked inside… And something was amiss. Floyd met me at the door, shaking her head and crying for mercy. There was a general feeling of pain and tension in the air of the whole house, the kind you feel at a funeral home or hospital. Little F was in his kennel in the bedroom, but once he heard the door he started crying, too.

Then came the wall of smell. Oh dear God, the smell.

We rushed to the kennel to find Little F waking up in a pool of his own diarrhea. The kennel is just wire mesh, and the explosive poop had made it two feet out of the kennel. In three directions. It also coated the ceiling on his kennel. It was like he had been a high powered hose spewing watery poo. Or like he had been break dance spinning in his kennel when the shits began.

My friend began mopping the poop soup (good friend, sturdy) and I took the shit coated Little F outside to squeeze the rest of the evil out of him.

Now he’s a basset hound, so his long droopy ears pick up everything on the ground. He has the additional nickname of ‘Swiffer’ for this reason. So needless to say, he had caked his ears in liquid poo, and first thing I did after he sneezed out of his butt all over my whole yard was take him directly in to the bathtub for a severe scrubbing.

After his bath (he hates baths, and he fights a lot) I dried him off, brushed his hair and released the hound. He ran straight back to his kennel where my friend was delivering a last coat of Lysol. He took one look at the kennel, smelled the remnants of his deed, and was so grossed out by himself that he puked- projectiled kibble mid run- and turned and ran out of the room.

I nearly peed my pants laughing. After a point, this shit (pun intended) is just funny.

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